


Drowning

by EmmaSpencer



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anxiety, Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Greg helps, Greg promised but Mycroft's not so sure, M/M, Mycroft calms down a bit, Mycroft needs to talk, Protective Greg, Talking, mentione of self harm, not drowning anymore, soft, you are more important than work, you never know when it'll hit you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 06:25:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17420762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaSpencer/pseuds/EmmaSpencer
Summary: "I needed to talk to you.""I'm here. You could have asked for me...""You were working.""Doesn't matter." he kissed his temple."I feel like I'm drowning. It doesn't matter how deep breaths I take...I'm...it’s like someone is sitting on my chest, constantly..."





	Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> Based on my current mood and feelings. Everything just keeps piling and piling and I'm sitting here waiting for it to bury me.

Mycroft anxiously fiddled with his umbrella, rethinking his choice and then rethinking again. He moved his fingers just realising how tight his grip was. Greg was busy, but he also said to seek him at any time he needs it. And Mycroft needed him now. He was standing by the police line for half an hour and his presence just now drew attention.  
"Sir!"  
"I'm waiting for DI Lestrade."  
"And you are?"  
"A friend." he handed a card to him. "No need to fetch him." he took it back from the surprised constable. "I’ll wait."   
"I...all right." Mycroft wanted to scream after him, to go and get Gregory at this instance but he rather took a few deep breaths and gripped his umbrella more tightly.  
Greg reassured him that he will make time for him whenever it was necessary. He saw the state Mycroft was and still not got back to his old self, he sat through long nights when the darkness threatened to overtake him. He was there and he promised...it was an easy promise while he was off work, but now...Mycroft wasn't so sure.  
He couldn't feel his hands or feet in the cold wind anymore. Most of the bystanders have left already, only a few journalists lingered when finally Greg turned up. Even from far and in the dark Mycroft could tell that he was angry, and tired and most of all surely had no time for his whining.  
"Aren't you cold My?" he blinked rapidly not realising when Greg came closer. "Josh said you’ve been here for hours." Greg ducked under the line wrapping an arm around his waist.  
"I'm sorry, you are busy."  
"Nonsense, nothing is more important that you. Where is your car?"  
"Walked."  
"Take you home them. Donovan, I'm off!" he yelled.  
"What?"  
"I said I'm off. Expect a report on my desk first thing in the morning." he guided Mycroft to his car.   
"But..." he whispered.  
"Not going to let work destroy this, not going to lose you because of work." he leaned over and kissed his temple. "What happened?  
"Nothing." he whispered his vision blurring.  
"You are crying love, is there something I can help with?"  
"Just the wind...hurting my eyes." he sniffled.  
"Want to talk here or at home?"  
"Home please."  
"Sure love, need anything? On the way I mean..."  
"No." he wrapped his arms around himself burying his face to his scarf.

Greg got changed and waited for Mycroft to settle, he sat between his legs wrapped in a blanket. Greg wrapped his arms around him, resting his chin on the top of his head. "Okay?" he whispered.  
"No." he sighed. "I needed to talk to you."  
"I'm here. You could have asked for me..."  
"You were working."  
"Doesn't matter." he kissed his temple.  
"I feel like I'm drowning. It doesn't matter how deep breaths I take...I'm...it’s like someone is sitting on my chest, constantly. I tried distracting myself but nothing helped...and...and I thought of that again, you know what.”  
“I know My.” he whispered, remembering clearly how he found him, covered in blood from the uncountable cuts, sitting on his own on the bathroom floor, looking totally lost.   
“I really thought if it. I already located the needed items, just walking back and forth but still. So I rather left."  
"Thank you, that was really brave of you." Mycroft snorted. "You are love, once for telling me, and withstanding the urge, and for seeking help...which is the hardest for you."  
"It is." he mumbled. "I thought it will go away."  
"Has it?"   
"Yes, but hoped for sooner."  
"What is that overwhelms you so much?"  
"I..." he took a deep breath sinking further to his arms. "I'm closing my pending matters, it is a lot and the deadline is so close. I need to get Anthea a suitable position till I have a tiny power left. Family is pressuring me from the other side, and of course the press once Sherlock so kindly revealed our connection. And I have norml things to do! Like cleaning and the vet and ironing but...when I get home I don't have the will to live not to mention working more. I left today because I couldn't bare it anymore and that put me way behind now..." Greg stroked lazy circles in his chest, trying to coax him to slow his breathing.  
“I have an idea My, why not stay home…just let me finish.” he chuckled before he could intercept. “Stay home and work from here. In the office you are always trying to guess who and what are they planning against you, they put more and more work on you knowing you’d do it without a word. Stay, it’ll be much calmer…hopefully better for you. Phone only turned on when really necessary. And leaving the housework to me…I’ll have time in the weekend.”  
“I…think about it.” he whispered. Greg moved his hand up and stroked Mycroft’s hair.  
They’ve been sitting in silence for a long time when Greg’s grumbling stomach disturbed the quiet. “Sorry.”   
“I…maybe I could eat a little something myself.”  
“Sure, what are we fancying tonight?” Greg smiled widely, Mycroft wasn’t really eating and every time Greg could make him was a battle won.  
"It's up to you." he mumbled.  
"Okay."  
“Thank you Gregory, for everything.”  
“Always love. Feel better?”  
“Yes.” he sat up fiddling with the blanket.  
“I love you and I’ll do anything for you My. I don’t make empty promises love.” he placed a hand on his face.  
“I love you too.” he whispered leaning against his palm. “I help.” he got up pulling Greg with him. He was still tried, overwhelmed, but he wasn’t drowning anymore, Greg pulled him to safety as he promised.   
“I might have been wrong.” he whispered.  
“Hmmm?”  
“Nothing dear.” he smiled at him. Greg was there for him, no matter when, he was there, as he promised. Keeping him ashore, keeping him safe. Mycroft kissed him, he was wrong this time but he didn’t mind it, not at all.


End file.
